the things we lost in the fire
by drjemmanugent
Summary: He dreams of her often and, even if it's the last thing one forgets, her voice haunts him. "One day, you'll see the mistake you are making, Grant." He did make a mistake, however it is too late for him to turn back. He couldn't just do what she was asking of him. Slight AU, Rated T (BioSpecialist)


**Things We Lost in the Fire**

**Week 2:**_ "__Penance" of wardsimmonsdays' #wssummer event on tumblr_

**Notes:**_Heeding to Ward's 'debt' to Garrett, this is a taste of what he has lost because of it. It could be much more than what we see in the show. Slight AU. Warning: I am a bit rusty. Let's see how it goes. It came out longer than I expected. _

_(In 2005, Jemma is 17; Grant is 22. You can go from there.)_

**—**

[2015]

She carries the kit in her hand. There is no doubt that she'll need it to treat his wounds. Coulson told her that he hasn't been tortured, but the man has to stop trying to lie to his team. Frankly, they could all tell when he did so.

SHIELD's new director had tired to talk her out from this idea. Indeed, it is not the best idea at the moment but a good amount of time has passed since the war; since _he_ has been captured. From Skye's hackings tips,—Coulson wanted for each member of his particular team to have some expertise, if not more, on each other's area— Jemma could gather that Ward has not been difficult in the last few months. He hasn't opened up more than a few facts and hints —mostly due to his lack of voice—but he has proven to be a calmer inmate than most. She supposed no harm would be inflicted if she paid him a visit.

The guard introduces his code and the new and improved identifier lets him open the door. _Ward is in a cell in here_. The gray walls ran short a few feet in front of her making her look at the guard beside her. He motions for her to turn to the left. The recently rebuilt infrastructure now holds stronger cemented walls and biochemically-altered metal bars to keep the prisoners trapped. Jemma knew of this as she had assisted in the project. Precisely, this project greets her. The white light that shines on the hallways provides little visibility as to who was behind the bars.

The nervousness was now creeping in and so was the realization. She was going to see Ward. No one was going to accompany them during their interchange. The guards were going to be nearby but primarily, Jemma was going to be alone with him.

The guard hurries ahead of her and stops at a cell, pulling his keys out and punching in his code again.

B3-345

That was his cell number.

"I don't think you'll get a conversation out of this guy." He warns. "He was out of surgery just two days ago. Been slipping in and out since then."

"I'll just treat his wounds." Jemma assures the man. He purses his lips and hums, opening the door.

**—**

[2005]

Jemma wanted out.

She'd been used to working with her father in their research lab, independent of any superior company or organization. Starting from age seven, she'd been the curious sort. This is something that her father never missed. He had slowly started to bring her into his lab, showing her the ropes of a few chemical reactions, much to her mother's dislike. Throughout the years, they've developed serums and other components that never make it into the outside.

In the past two years, her father has not been as present in their lab as she has become accustomed to. Then one morning, when she was working on the analysis of a cell sample, her father burst into the room and told her to come with him. At the moment, she didn't give it much thought. She just followed him. However, on the way, she'd noticed that he would tap his fingers on the surface of the driving wheel, seemingly in a hurry.

Then he spoke. "You say your name is Emma. Emma Mohr. Remember?"

That name is what he used to call her for endearment's sake. He took the 'J' out of her name and added his last name. She liked it however her father hasn't called her that in years. _Why has he just brought it up? And say it to whom?_

"Why?" she inquires in a brittle manner. His abruptness had her a bit queasy and unsure. He was also surpassing the street's speed limit. For her that always follows the rules, this is a motive for insecurity.

"No, no, sweetie. Don't worry. It's just that the opportunity that we've been waiting for has come. Our work has not been in vain." Dr. Mohr let out. He swallows harshly. "We'll be there in a moment."

"Where?" Her question was answered by an approaching glass-windowed building. She could not see the name.

…

"My jewel, this is Garrett; my partner in crime, per se." Dr. Mohr introduced. "Johnny, this is my daughter, Emma Mohr."

Garrett smiles and takes her hand. He begins to rub his fingers over the top of her hand. He studies her, settling on her eyes. This man is the definition of downtrodden, wearing a turtle neck and jeans as well as a forming beard. However, he didn't seem powerless or beaten. He carries a confident aura that made her tremble.

"The calculating sort?" Garrett smirks, tugging on her hand. Jemma doesn't like him giving her a scrutinizing stare while walking her ahead. She looks back at her father and strangely, he has a satisfied expression.

"I hope you don't mind the lab. Primarily, it was made for just one. But since your detail-oriented father failed to mention you sooner, we can't change anything now." He said, grabbing a leather jacket hanging on a hook of the wall. "I hope you are comfortable with a gun?"

As Garrett talked about the lab, she'd pay little to no attention but when he mentions a gun, she swivels her head to face him. "Sorry?"

Garrett chuckles. "No worries, Gemstone. You'll start training soon. I'll set you up with my best man. Martin, bring Ward. I have someone for him to meet."

The use of the nickname freaked Jemma out at how closely it sounded to her real name. Taking a look around her surroundings, she noticed everything was bricked and wired. Cables hung overhead and there were at least two stairs cases spiraling upwards. Water drops seep through the ceiling and walls, making an eerie scenario. Light bulbs were out in a few places, making her fault to constantly see where she steps. They were nearing a staircase going down.

"Dad?" she calls behind her, "What is this place?"

"Em—" her father begins but Garrett intercedes.

He stops, losing his grip on her hand. She quickly put it by her side.

Garrett hums throatily, "Alright! Any who, Emma—"

"Sir?"

A low modulated voice sounds at the bottom of the stairs. She turns to see a man, possibly a few years older than her, looking up at them. Even from her stance atop of the stairs, she can see his chiseled jaw as a reaction to his pressed lips.

"Ah, Ward." Garrett voiced, walking down the stairs, her father in suit. Jemma lingered a bit. _What are they doing?_

The new man, Ward, keeps his eyes on her. All this staring was making her uncomfortable but she can't deny that he looking at her adds a different layer to the discomfort. She just could not tell if it is good or bad.

She makes her way downstairs. Her father, placing a hand on her shoulder, said, "Emma, this is Agent Grant Ward, Garrett's best man. He is to be your supervising officer."

**—**

[2015]

Grant sees the door open.

"I'm not feeling that excited for today's get-together, Rochev." He croaked breathily.

For the past few weeks, he's been assigned a new guard. He comes every so often to _bond_. His hands do most of the bonding with his flesh. Ward has become numb to it by now. It's been a year after all. Hardly sitting up , he leans on the hard wall. He is pleased to have a decent matt to lie on although he knows that they are going to remove it once he is scientifically stable. Besides, after Rochev's treatments, he loses all sense for a few hours. He wakes up later on to be saluted by an additional neck pain. He is planning to appreciate this matt as long as he can.

His head spins.

"I'm here to help with that, actually," a crisp, soft spoken voice complements the room.

The voice sounds familiar. He blinks a few times towards the figure standing in front of him, trying to decipher who stands before him. A sudden flash of a girl standing on a staircase floats into his mind. He couldn't help to let his gaze linger on her. Her fair features did not overwhelm however that was not an excuse for her to not be noticed. Her tawny brown hair fell to her shoulders. Her rosy lips are slightly ajar and she is looking straight at him.

He knows her, "Emma."

He hears her feet shuffling toward him. She hesitates, "It's _Jemma_… Oh dear, how much of the sedative are they giving you?"

Grant frowns. His vision is blurry and he couldn't see her well but he is certain this is Emma.

"No, Em—"

"Too much," she interrupted, a clasp unlocking soon after.

This is Emma. It has to be. He should know. He dreams of her often and, even if it's the last thing one forgets, her voice haunts him. _One day, you'll see the mistake you are making, Grant._ He did make a mistake, however it is too late for him to turn back. He couldn't just do what she was asking of him. He had a debt to Garrett.

Her appearing just confirms his suspicions, the ones that blossomed when he met FitzSimmons.

Roughly, he tries again, "Simmons, I know you are Emma. You told me."

Whatever she is working on, she stops. "I need to counter effect the sedation." Her voice is quiet and difficult as if she is afraid she'll break.

Simmons became clearer in his peripheral view; she is standing in front of the monitor keeping track of his increasing heartbeat. Administering an injection into his IV drip, she seems focused on just doing that with her shoulders scrunched and looking closely at the tube. He reaches for her ankle, looking up at her. Being on the floor, he wants her to see him. She jumps but falls to her knees and takes his hand off her leg. Immediately, she begins to pass her gloved fingers over his skin, inspecting for something.

"I always have had your six." He tells her.

A few strands of her hair had fallen in front of her hazel eyes, and once he tucked them behind her ear, he sees her focus is on him.

—

[2007]

"One last bullet and we head out to the airfield. We need to master air flight next." Grant chuckles but then straightens his expression. Emma positions her vision through the scope and points her rifle to the dummy thirty yards away. The dummy earned a hole through where a heart could be placed, meaning Emma aimed appropriately.

He can not contain it. Grant exclaimed approvingly, "Yeah! That's it."

"Could you not?" she punched him, the other hand dropping the rifle and holding her ear. He laughs, shrugging. He picks up the rifle and frees the rounds, slipping them into his pocket.

Emma came some time ago and she has certainly showed evolution through her practices. It started out rocky. She would not come near a gun or throw a decent punch. Then suddenly she became fierce, determined to do her best. Now, she takes the lead and leaves him awestruck. Only two years it took for her to be a strong fighter considering his limited time with her due to his time at the academy.

(They give him special time off for getting excellent marks. Also, they think he goes to see his 'newly-recovered brother'…)

And considering no isolation procedures in the woods were needed is incredible. Correction: Garrett's 'suggestions' were not needed.

His commanding officer had told him she was an important asset that needed to be trained. Emma is not anything like her father, a weak-willed old man. Stubborn and all, she does not need to be manipulated. She understands the gravity of the events occurring around her. In addition to her scientific knowledge, she is a hazard to the opponent on the field.

Grant couldn't be more amazed. Garret has questioned him several times about that _amazement_ towards Emma. He has clarified that it's just that, amazement; amazement that he didn't have to go to extremes to teach her the proper way.

Despite this, Grant can't help but feel something else for Emma. He won't give it much thought into it though. He just continues to go through the motions, teaching her and enjoying any moment with her.

Martin came running towards them from half an acre. He was carrying two bulletproof vests and additional weapons were slung over his shoulder.

"We've been made, Ward." He pants, offering the equipment. "In broad daylight. They've got a few chained, the other's are running."

Sure enough, an explosion is seen about a mile away. The ground shakes but they remain standing. Ward takes a vest and shucks it at Emma, "Put it on! Grab a rifle. Slip the knife into your boot."

Emma nods, "We are going to an Island, right?"

Ward zips his own vest up and secures the rifles over his shoulder and a gun to his vest. "Yeah! Come on!"

Martin is right. The attack was going on in broad daylight. This place was founded in an isolated area, making it safe and dangerous at the same time. They just had to avoid getting caught. The light is not in their favor. They have to get to an Island, their safe house. They have hundreds scattered over this terrain. It won't be hard to find one.

They made it to possibly a mile to the nearest Island when they heard shouts far away behind them.

"Don't turn around, Em! Keep running!" Grant yelled to her.

"No need to tell me, S.O.!" Emma yelled, stomping in suit.

Suddenly a thump is heard and Ward does the mistake of turning back. He sees that Martin is down, a bullet through his head. Emma tries to go to him but he attempts to stop her. They can't do anything.

"No!" He grabs her by the waist and plants her in front of him, "We have to go. It was a clean shot. The best we can do is run to safety. Come on; got your six, remember? So, trust me."

She is biting her lip in hesitation but she very well knows that _they_ are behind them. They begin to run again and the electronic, seemingly real tree appears to their salvation.

He turns back and sees that the gunmen still have a long way but they could still get here if they don't hurry. A gunman points to Emma's direction, and he brusquely pushes her in front of him. She's okay.

But he gets shot. Twice.

…

Grant falls behind her.

She turns around to see his side bleeding and all she can do is scramble to his side. Two bullets are the problem. Those guys are close. She hears them screaming.

"Grant!" Jemma shrieks, applying pressure to his wounds or at least trying to. Her hands are shaking uncontrollably.

"Emma," he tries grabbing her arm, "Get to the safe house."

"No! I am not doing that!" she tells him, ripping a sleeve from her shirt and tearing it up. "I am patching you up and you are running too. I can do this in seconds!"

"Emma, you don't have seconds," he groans. He attempts to shove her away. She doesn't budge.

"Stop that!" she hisses. She deepens a cloth into a wound and gets up, grabbing her rifle. "Come on!"

She offers a hand to him just as the shouts are approaching. They swivel around the trees to lose them a bit, never leaving sight of the electronic tree. Once they lose them quite a bit, they discreetly trail to the Island.

Jemma manages to punch her code in with a sweating Grant leaning on her. They stumble inside, the quiet door closing behind them. The staircase at their entrance leads them underground. She doesn't have much time to think. She sees a bed and scrambles to it. She drops Ward on it and she gathers first aid equipment from somewhere nearby.

Jemma begins to tear up his shirt aggressively, earning a smirk from Grant.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you are trying to make a move on an injured guy. You are going at me in my most vulnerable state, Em." He chuckles.

The nerve! She applies iodine betadine to his wound more aggressively.

"Shut up!" She throws a small towel at him while putting the brown swab down. She starts assembling her instruments, "Bite that. I don't like screaming."

Ward actually chuckles, amused, "I don't scream."

His voice was forced, and it pained her. This happened because he was protecting her. He did not need to.

"You groan loudly, which is not better." She roughly states. She pulls open a packed surgical tweezer. "So bite it, idiot."

"So gentle," he muttered.

She applies a local anesthesia to the area and pulls out the remains of her sleeve out of his wound. He winces. She swiftly takes the bullets out once she can and terminates by stitching him up. He still groans from time to time.

All while she mutters _you stupid, idiotic git, dimwit, asshole _over and over.

"Why did you do that!" she says once she's done with that and is putting an IV needle into his hand for a transfusion.

"Have I told you that you look adorable when you are angry? Your Britishness really spikes." he smiles, sleepily.

"Great, now you are in a delirious state." She mutters, introducing the blood into his system. "I am just adding a pint. Okay?"

"Where did you get the blood? Are you a vampire?" Grant mumbles, closing his eyes.

She has to keep him talking, "I can't believe I am saying this but you have to keep mumbling your idiocies. And yes, yes I am a vampire. I store my supply in the fridge."

He hums approvingly, his lids falling. _I have to keep him up at least thirty minutes. Only thirty minutes._

She slaps his arm, "Hey! Wake up! You haven't answered my question!"

"Ah! What!" He moves his arm, grabbing it tenderly. _Yeah, he is a softie._

"Why did you take that bullet! I can defend myself thanks to you!"

"It was instinct." He says simply.

"Why?" she sits sloppily beside him. She puts her hand on his bandaged side.

He chuckles softly, looking at her hand on him. "You can't question instinct." She looks at him expectantly. He sighs looking at her, putting his hand on hers, "Isn't it obvious? I'll always have your six."

She looks at him, blinking.

She leans in to kiss him.

[2009]

After being accepted into Sciences, Jemma decides to come clean. She has come to know the people in the academy, the notorious people Garrett calls selfish. SHIELD's agents are easy-going and bright. She begins to notice that she is not that anymore as she comes to know them. A guy named Leo has become her ally and frankly, she likes it. She likes having a close acquaintance as well as a group of friends to rely on.

When she told Garrett that she entered SHIELD, she was thankful he didn't ask for her application. She used her real name and her real self is the one who is getting a good place in the academy. Being an outcast in grade school and then quitting altogether, made her lose her previous hopes.

Her father had already retired, and sits at home with her mother. She could say _Emma Mohr_ is retiring as well and she'll drop off the map.

"Garrett would never let you." Grant told her one night, circling his nose in her hair. They lay with their arms around each other. Managing to find an empty dorm room in the middle of their respective academies was no easy task but they found a way.

"People have done it before," she reasons, playing with his fingers.

"Yeah, in SHIELD. Not Hydra. When you come into HYDRA, you make a loyalty pact and you can't break it." he says.

"I was forced to come here, not given the choice. I was in this because of my father's choices. And because Garrett wanted my experiments in his checkbook." Jemma sat up, wrapping the covers around her. Grant's eyes drop to the border of her skin with the sheets. "I am serious." She smacks him on the chest.

He chuckles. "Okay, okay. Do you think if I could retired at our age, I would have done it already?"

Jemma shakes her head, "Hey, no. You stay in HYDRA because you 'owe' Garrett. You've done many things to earn your place but you don't have to isolate everyone that brings an opportunity your way just because he says so."

He frowned, "I've learned the hard way to take orders. You know that."

The aspiring biochemist sighs and proposes, "Come with me. We'll disappear together. We won't have HYDRA or SHIELD in our lives. It'll just be us."

Grant looks at her incredulously and hesitates, "Emma…"

"Think about it. Don't say anything. Just think." She lays back into his hold, slipping his arm around her bare waist.

…

The tears brimming her bright eyes are breaking his heart apart. She just needs to understand that he can't leave so easily. He will keep her secret; she deserves to be happy. But it's not so easy for him. He doesn't have a second name to bear in the outside world. And he doesn't want to endanger her. He can't bring himself to be that selfish to her.

So he says no.

"One day, you'll see the mistake you are making, Grant_._ You'll see that you could have had other outings. I just won't be there to hold you back up." She says in broken, misshapen tone.

And then walks out the door.

"Jemma Simmons," he whispers, rolling her name on his tongue.

—

[2015]

Jemma straightens herself and stands, checking the IV monitor. His fingers, the ones that lingered when he tucked her hair, were left hanging in midair.

"Don't do that, Ward." She tells him, not looking down. She can't. "I guess it happened, huh? You finally opened your eyes?"

"I made a mistake, Jemma. Now, and only now, when nothing can be remedied. I've hurt all of you but the thing I regret the most, is not truly seeing what you offered me that night." he says to her, more fluently than his previous words.

She stops messing with the monitor and sinks down to her kit. .

"Not everything is lost, Ward. You can still cut short your punishment. Do the right thing, but only if you mean them. We've had enough lies from you." Jemma expresses.

"Why are you giving me hope when I don't deserve it?"

"I owe it to Fitz and Skye to see if the man they looked up to is still there." She answered earnestly.

Ward nodded, attempting to stand. When he successfully did so, balancing himself with the wall, he looked at her and opened his mouth to speak. She beat him to it.

"As for me, I know he was gone the moment he refused to open his eyes."

She visibly saw his face fall.


End file.
